I would often play outside with my brother and friends in all seasons. Hide and seek with my cousin, running through the small patch of woods (where we weren’t supposed to go), always winning. Splashing in the water puddles made bigger by potholes, creating “bridges” with pieces of brick or concrete. Creating a swing from the tree in our front yard, that other kids in the neighborhood loved to use. The cold but serene night my brother and I lay out in the snow looking up at the stars. My dad made us warm our hands in the warm water from the faucet.
My mom cooks warm meals with love while we sit over dinner, still our primary way to pass time with each other. Hanging Christmas lights around the house, being the one to climb and maneuver over objects to reach places. The summers with pools and water balloons, filled with laughter. There’s a path in the woods that leads to a park, close by, I would explore there with my family and often take my friends there as well.
I distinctly remember a time, as well, when my father was asleep when my brother and I got home from school, we couldn’t contact our grandmother who lived a block away, nor did we have keys. We cried in the truck bed of my dad’s car, thinking we’d been left outside and were now homeless (we were like 7). But then, our neighbors, who didn’t speak English, were welcoming us into their house to wait until they got home. We were deeply touched. While they tried their best to communicate, they showed they cared and offered us food to eat, and others to play with (the kids).
Our parents had pressured us to not go into strangers’ homes, and sort of sheltered us, never left us leave our home street, but we had known people well who lived near us (feet away as far as house distance), so this seemed safe; better than staying outside. When my dad woke up and came over to look for us, he thanked them profusely, and we’d been close friends.
I learned how to ride a bike on my home street, hung up pinecones with peanut butter for the squirrels in our tree, played with our dogs, met my best friends, and had many a good memories here. I still live in my childhood neighborhood, and we have walks around as a family in the summer. I don’t feel the same sense of community as I did back then, but the neighborhood has become consideringly more diverse. Despite our circumstances and financial situation, we are brought together.
